An Angel in the Garden
by Traillbits
Summary: After Erik let's Christine and Raoul go to live their lives together, the Opera Ghost continues to watch over her and their new family. Fair warning, very sappy oneshot. Set after the musical.


Erik promised himself he wouldn't interfere, and with a hint of denial told himself he was not interfering whilst standing in the large garden.

All he was doing was watching, it was no crime to simply observe her. Erik blended in with the shadows the stone angels in the garden created in the moonlight. The Vicomte was a slave to fashion and wealth but the immaculately designed jungle of a garden served as easy hiding place for Erik.

Since Christine left his lair with that boy, Erik only wanted to secure her happiness and to see that she got it. He'd be damned to see that young fop ruin her life on his watch. He would cross that line and interfere if necessary, Erik felt selfish hoping for such a scenario so that he could step out of the dark. But Raoul appeared to do quite the opposite to the maestro's dismay as Erik discreetly followed where the newlyweds led their blissful lives.

Sure, it made the masked man scoff to hear from outside the window Christine's giddy giggles as Raoul whispered something in her ear. Erik felt physically ill to his stomach to see her lean in to that fop lovingly to kiss him, Raoul's arm gently going around her in turn. Months would go on like this until one point that the Phantom would be wide eyed and numb seeing a growing swell in Christine's belly. She still looked all the more beautiful to Erik's eyes, she seemed to practically glow during the later stages of her pregnancy.

His ears and heart were pained at the painful sounds she gave once the baby was coming, her angelic features contorted and hair a mess as she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The harsh scream that once filled the air ceased, replaced with a melodic cry of new life brought into the world.

The months and years that followed passed by like mere hours. Erik was growing careless as he watched the expanding family go about life. More often he would risk coming during the day, hiding within the large flower foliage. At one point so transfixed on the child crawling on the fine rug-Genevieve they named her-the Phantom was nearly seen before Erik concealed himself in the shadows. Christine quizzically looked out the glass window before turning her attention back to the cooing infant.

One afternoon, the sun shining as the cloud cover dissipated, Erik was simply watching Christine again. She was alone in the sitting room, reading a book who's author was covered by her small hand over the story's spine.

Suddenly Erik felt two tugs on his cloak. His eyes wide at being discovered, the Phantom whipped around to face whom he assumed would be the Vicomte. But his forming sneer faded realising it was not Raoul. When he turned initially expecting to see a grown adult he saw no one but continued to feel a tugging sensation. Looking down his mismatch eyes fell upon a small child dressed in baby blue, blond curly locks matching that of the fop's, but her chocolate brown eyes that of his dear Christine's. In her left hand were uprooted flowers clenched by their frail stem.

Genevieve merely stared up at the masked man, no fear or horror upon her fair face.

Finally her face cracked into a wide innocent smile,

"Bonjour monsieur!" She said.

Erik paused, and once again found his voice.

"Bonjour little one," He returned the greeting politely, tipping his fedora to the girl.

"Are you an angel?" Genevieve asked.

"W-What? I beg your pardon?" Erik stammered at the familiar title.

"Maman told me about guardian angels that come down from Heaven. That angels keep people safe."

"Yes, but why do you think that I am one of these angels, child?" The Phantom asked, kneeling down to her level.

"You watch us, I see you from my window. Angels watch people and keep them safe."

The masked man was astounded that he had been so foolish to have been seen-even by a child-on more than one occasion. But all the more surprised Genevieve would come to such a conclusion, Christine must be filling the idea of such stories in her head.

Erik at times hated the fact that lying came so easily to him. But he couldn't risk neither Raoul or Christine knowing of his presence.

"Yes my dear, I have been quietly watching."

"So you are an angel?"

"I am, child. But you must not tell maman that we spoke."

Genevieve pouted, "Why not? Maman would be so happy!"

"Well...Angels you see, we are very shy creatures. And that is why we are not seen often or speak to people."

"But you speak to me!"

"Not everyone can my dear," Erik continued his lie. "I'm afraid if your maman or papa were to come to the garden now, they would see you merely talking to thin air. As if you were speaking to a ghost."

Genevieve's mouth was agape, believing the deceit he fed her.

"Ok, thank you Monsieur Angel."

"Of course mademoiselle," Erik said, taking one of the flowers out of Genevieve's tiny hand, snapping away the dirty stem before slipping the daisy over her ear.

The girl smiled at the Phantom's gentle gesture. Even while kneeled Erik was still much taller than her little stature. Pulling the dirty root off the flower as he did, Genevieve went on her tip toes to try and do the same over his ear. But losing her footing she slipped, her hands flying out as she fell. Erik grasped her just before she fell on her face. Sitting up the girl realised she dropped her flowers, but something else had fallen now in three large porcelain pieces on the brick flooring.

"No..." Erik mumbled, staring down at his broken mask. The child looked up at him in confusion.

'Here it comes,' The Phantom thought to himself, shutting his eyes, waiting for the blood curdling scream and being exposed once again.

But moments passed and he didn't hear anything. Erik felt a small palm on his arm, he opened his mismatch coloured eyes in confusion. Using the limb as a point of contact, Genevieve climbed with a grip on his arm up onto his lifted knee and leaned up to the deformed side of his face.

Erik couldn't understand what on earth this child was doing and why she wasn't running away or crying. Then he gasped, feeling small lips peck the twisted flesh.

"Wh-Why did you do that?" Erik asked bewildered at the gentle gesture.

Genevieve frowned sadly, "Maman said if you kiss an owie it will make it feel better. Monsieur Angel had an owie, I wanted to make it better."

Even if it were a misunderstanding, that this child thought his repulsive features were result of an injury, the kindness baffled him so.

"Gene! Are you still playing in the garden? Lunch is ready darling!" Christine's voice suddenly called.

"Oh!" The little girl mouthed, "Coming mother!"

The tiny blonde crawled off Erik's knee, turning back to him.

"Goodbye Monsieur Angel."

The stun wearing off, Erik tilted the fedora further down to try and conceal his exposed face.

"Good day my dear, and remember this is our little secret." He said gently.

Nodding, the girl scampered away back into the house.

Picking up the broken porcelain pieces, Erik disappeared to go back and repair his mask before his next return.


End file.
